


I'm All Lit Up

by clio_jlh



Series: Harvard-Radcliffe 'verse [4]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Bisexual Character, Breakfast, Challenge Response, Cooking, Established Relationship, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Holidays, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Romance, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio_jlh/pseuds/clio_jlh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Harvard AU: Jim and Leonard are hosting their very first Christmas, for a middle-school David and a newly collegiate Joanna.  Preparations must be made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm All Lit Up

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy like that stuffed monkey I just bought for Toys for Tots.  
> Thank you, as always, to [](http://ali-wildgoose.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ali_wildgoose**](http://ali-wildgoose.dreamwidth.org/) for the beta and the reassurance, and [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=canis_takahari)[**canis_takahari**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=canis_takahari) for the encouragement!

_December, 1982_

It all started when Leonard begrudgingly climbed into the car with Jim for a mid-week shopping trip, and got a roll of paper and two walkie-talkies dumped in his lap.

“What the hell?” he asked.

“Did a little recon the other day,” Jim said.

Leonard unfurled the roll and saw it was a quite detailed map of the mall. Some locations were highlighted with symbolic notations. “Is this thing in code?” Leonard asked. “You think the Russians are gonna invade Spencer’s Gifts?”

“Wavy lines are tinsel,” Jim said as he drove. “Stars are lights. Circles are ornaments.”

“You did recon on _Christmas decorations_?”

“Fact: There are no Christmas decorations in your house.”

Leonard shrugged. “Jocelyn preferred to spend Christmas in Georgia, and after the divorce I went there because that’s where Jo was.”

“Fact: Joanna and David are both spending Christmas with us.”

“Yeah, we’ll need a tree this year,” Leonard replied, and couldn’t help smiling.

“Fact: Decorations are a hell of a lot cheaper at the mall.” What Jim didn’t say was that with the two of them at nonprofits, one kid in college and one to save for, it wasn’t that things were tight so much as they didn’t want to spend money they didn’t have to.

“You’re the one who went on and on about wanting to shop downtown,” Leonard replied.

“That’s for presents, Bones,” Jim said. “Fact: You hate the mall, so I wanted to maximize our efficiency by going during the day on a weekday, and doing some recon beforehand.”

Leonard crossed his arms and scowled, because as much as Jim said he didn’t mind it and that everyone needed it, Leonard still hated being managed. As usual, his scowling just made Jim smile, and if the fact that Leonard’s irritability generally made Jim gleeful didn’t mean they were meant for each other in some inexplicable cosmic destiny sort of way, Leonard wasn’t sure what did. But as he had no reply, he stared out the window while some guy on the radio sang about Kilimanjaro rising above the Serengeti.

“If you’re a very good boy,” Jim said after a bit, “I’ll give you a reward when we’re done.”

“Oh really?” he asked. “What, my own Orange Julius?”

“You prefer strawberry,” Jim said, “and no, at home. After all, the kids get here in two days, and after that we’ll have to be quiet, probably not use our toys.”

“What toys?”

Jim gave Leonard a _look_ that made him shift in his seat.

Leonard turned and looked out the window before replying. “Well, when you put it _that_ way.”

Jim laughed, open and happy, and Leonard wondered how it was that his partner could make defeat feel so much like victory.

* * *

It was only that August, when Jo had turned eighteen and was about to embark on her own Harvard adventure, that Leonard could tell her what she already suspected about Jim and not risk losing her or have to ask her to lie to her mother. The two years before, Jim had scheduled trips for his Orion Foundation work when Jo was on her usual month-long summer visit, saying he wanted father and daughter to be able to be selfish with their time. But Leonard had known that they both just found it too damn hard to pretend, now that they finally had each other.

Jim and Carol had a much less difficult relationship, so David had always known. But this past summer was the first time the four of them had been under the same roof, for a whole month, and Leonard thought the new little family had done rather well, all things considered. No, they weren’t the Brady Bunch, but who was?

* * *

Their first task was deciding between the two decorating schemes on offer. The “modern” tree was dressed to within an inch of its life in gold tinsel garlands, satiny red globe ornaments, and red and gold twinkling lights. To Leonard’s eye it looked like a drag queen doing Nancy Reagan. The “traditional” tree was no less overdressed, but in sentimental ersatz Victorian style: blue-green and pink fabric garlands, painted wooden ornaments, and softly glowing lights meant to look like tiny candles.

“The house is Victorian, so I reckon the traditional tree. But not like _that_.”

“I am capable of restraint, Bones,” Jim said.

Then they went off in different directions, maps and walkie-talkies in hand. Going from store to store Leonard realized how many of these tiny decorating decisions he’d always left up to Jocelyn. With Jim it was a bit more equal, as they shared chores. They’d been redoing the house haphazardly, just buying new things when they needed to, and with every purchase the house felt a little more theirs.

Over the course of the next two hours:  
—Jim talked Leonard through the garland choice of teal and salmon, aquamarine and orchid, or turquoise and rose using a knowledge of color gleaned from their friend Jan, a painter  
—Leonard vetoed Hummel-style wooden ornaments on the grounds that his former mother-in-law was a collector  
—Jim returned a potential angel tree-topper when Leonard pointed out that it looked like Jim’s ex-wife  
—They agreed that the fake candle lights were a silly gimmick

When they met up again at the Woolworth’s counter for french fries and milk shakes, Leonard had to agree that Jim’s scheme had worked out very well. They had wrapping paper and all they needed for the house and the experience hadn’t been quite as horrible as Leonard had been expecting.

“So,” he said, “do we get the tree now?”

“Tomorrow,” Jim said. “Tonight we have other toys to play with.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Leonard felt his cheeks grow hot. “Dammit, Jim!” he hissed. “Not in public!”

Jim snickered. “If you didn’t blush, Bones, no one would know what we were talking about.”

* * *

The less said about getting the tree, the better. Jim realized, when they got to the vacant lot not far from their house, that he really shouldn’t have done this first thing in the morning, as Leonard wasn’t exactly at his best. They were lucky that the tree seller was a former hippie who’d moved north to start a tree farm/commune. He plied them with muffins and kept saying they should “Zen out, man. Just inhale the incense and find a better vibe.”

They did manage to cool down and compromise on a rather nice tree, though Leonard said later he thought that incense wasn’t incense, and that possibly the muffins had some “unorthodox ingredients.”

Once they got home, Leonard managed for once to overturn Jim’s usual choice of housework music—that new channel MTV, with which he was unapologetically obsessed—for something more seasonally appropriate.

“I don’t know what you have against it,” Jim said. “Remember how our parents didn’t understand Elvis? I don’t want to be that kind of dad.”

“You can’t fool me, Jim. You like watching boys in tight pants.”

“Don’t be jealous. You know you’re better looking than any of them.”

“As long as you stop singing that cheerleader song at me,” he said.

“But Bones! You really do take me by the heart when you take me by the hand!”

“I am going to forget you just said that, for your sake,” Leonard said, and put the needle down on _Elvis Sings The Wonderful World of Christmas_.

They spent the day decorating the front porch and the living room, and it was all comfortably coupley. With Carol, Jim had had an intense physical and intellectual connection, but neither of them had ever bothered too much about making things homey, even after the arrival of David. And Jocelyn, as Jim recalled, kept an elegant but rather cold home. Now it was as though Jim and Leonard brought out the old-fashioned rural domesticity in each other, with the fruit pie-baking and overstuffed couch-buying and backyard cookout-having and now, the family holiday-making. Jim felt deeply satisfied, like a spinning top that had finally come to rest.

After dinner they turned out all the lights except those on the now-decorated tree. Jim spread a blanket out on the floor next to the tree and put on the new Joe Jackson record they both liked while Leonard opened a bottle of wine.

“Romantic,” Leonard said as he sat down next to Jim and handed him a glass.

Jim smiled. He knew well that he wasn’t the best in the talking about your feelings department—that was Leonard’s job, to force issues and keep Jim from getting away with bullshit; it was Jim’s to poke Leonard if he was pouting—but the semi-darkness made him feel a bit braver. “I always wanted to sit in front of a tree like this,” he confessed. “With you.”

“With me?” Leonard asked, raising his eyebrows. “Even back when—”

“Even then.”

“And if I know you, there had to be some sex somewhere in that fantasy of yours.”

Jim chuckled. “Maybe.”

“Well, there’s a reason there’s so many early September babies.”

“Can’t make babies.”

“Don’t need to. Got teenagers.” Leonard wrapped his arm around Jim, pulling him a little closer and leaning them against the couch. “But you took care of me last night, so I might as well return the favor.”

Jim sipped his wine and nestled further into Leonard’s arms. Jim might be the one in charge when it came to toys and games and orgasms that could make a man cry, but good old-fashioned love making was more Leonard’s specialty. “Sounds good to me,” he replied.

* * *

Neither of them were all that fond of San Francisco International Airport. The drive out from town was kind of a drag, and seeing other couples able to greet each other properly while they couldn’t tended to make them both a bit irritable. The less time spent there, the better. So they arranged for David and Joanna to arrive at about the same time, to minimize the time they needed to spend there. At least fathers could greet their children without any objections from strangers.

The kids were, predictably, exhausted from their travel—Jo from Cambridge and David from Honolulu—and despite their excitement to be with their fathers, they drifted off on the car ride home and had to be roused to come into the house. Which meant that they didn’t exactly notice that beautifully decorated tree in the corner of the living room, though Jim thought that David _might_ have grunted in its general direction.

Leonard came back downstairs after settling them in to see Jim turning off the lights. “Leave the tree on,” he said. “They’ll see it tomorrow.”

Jim smiled, knowing he shouldn’t feel that little pang of disappointment in his chest, but he couldn’t help it. “I know, Bones,” he said. “It’s just—”

“I know,” Leonard said, and dragged him up to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Jim woke up to Leonard poking him. “What the hell, Bones?”

“Do you smell bacon?” Leonard asked.

“Yeah,” Jim said, after a moment. “And coffee.”

Leonard jumped up and pulled on his robe. “Better make sure they aren’t burning the damn house down,” he said.

Jim followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where David was standing in his pajamas at the electric griddle flipping pancakes while Jo cooked bacon on the stove.

“Good morning,” she said. “There’s coffee in the pot.”

“What’s all this?” Leonard asked.

“I’ve been awake since six-thirty, thanks to jet lag,” Jo replied. “Came downstairs to watch some TV and saw the tree. Why didn’t you say anything last night?”

Jim waved his hand. “You were asleep standing up, the two of you.”

“So I thought we’d make it up to you and make breakfast.”

“Well, that’s real sweet of you, JoJo,” Leonard said, giving her a kiss on the temple. He cocked his head and looked at David. “What were you doing up?” he asked.

“I wasn’t up,” David replied, a bit grouchily. “She dragged me out of bed.”

“He’s the one you taught to make pancakes,” Jo explained. “And I wasn’t going to do this by myself, anyway.”

“That’s an older sister for you,” Jim said, and reached for one of the cooling draining slices of bacon. “If I had a nickel for every time your Uncle Sam dragged me into doing something, I could buy you a pony.”

“How about a motorcycle?” David asked.

“Eighteen,” Jim replied, as he did every time the subject arose.

“Six years is a long time to wait for something, Dad,” David said.

Jim looked at Leonard, who was pouring them cups of coffee, and replied, “It’s really not a long wait at all, kiddo.”

“Doing a good job with those pancakes, David,” Leonard said.

David smiled broadly, something he didn’t do as often since he got braces. “Thanks. The tree’s pretty.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jo added. “Especially the angels at the top.”

“Should we tell them?” Leonard asked.

Jim sat down next to him at the counter, taking the offered cup. “Probably not,” he replied.

“Tell us what?” Jo asked.

“Well, didn’t you notice that one of those angels has curly blond hair, and the other has long brown hair?” Leonard said.

David looked horrified. “Seriously?” he asked. “They’re me and Jo?”

“Yep,” Jim replied, and drank some coffee to keep himself from laughing.

Joanna, meanwhile, executed an absolutely perfect McCoy eyeroll. “ _Don’t_ tell anyone else,” she said.

“We won’t,” Leonard said, “as long as you keep making us pancakes.”

“This is the end of the batter anyway,” David said. He poured the warmed syrup into a little pitcher while Jo got the other pancakes out of the oven, and before long the four of them were sitting at the counter, too busy eating to talk.

Jim felt Leonard’s hand, warm on his knee, and he could just see the tree through the entryway into the living room. Jo had the TV on, and he could hear David Bowie and Bing Crosby singing “Little Drummer Boy” and the scrape of utensils against plates as David continued to try to beat some sort of land speed record for eating. Jim had had other happy family Christmases—as a kid on Tiberius’s farm, with his men in Moscow and Saigon and Berlin, taking David out to Iowa to be with his mom and Sam’s family—but this was the first time he’d made a home and brought his family to it. There was something pretty grown-up about that.

“Don’t worry, Jo,” he said. “The angels will stay our family secret.”

* * *


End file.
